


That One Child

by scribblemyname



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Bahrain, Coping, Deathfic, Divorce, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/scribblemyname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surely, there was happiness for Melinda somewhere at the end of however many months it would take to stop waking up from a child's relentless smile and outstretched hand. She would get better. Andrew would stop looking at her with sorrow because she wouldn't let him help her and she couldn't talk to him about what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



Let's talk about pain.

Bahrain.

She couldn't save that child. She was there to protect and to save that one child, and she couldn't do it. She was the Cavalry, the angel of death, the hand of judgment on that one child.

"I need your pain," the little girl had asked, even demanded. Her pain.

She had Melinda's pain now, and Melinda had lost the little girl.

* * *

Come home, Melinda.

Her parting promise, the call she always made before she put her life on the line. Every field agent with family had something, some ritual more important to them than the one for homecoming. It was their sendoff to go out and protect.

Bobbi's was "Don't die out there," exchanged with the man she loved.

Melinda's was a phone call, a promise.

Do good, Melinda. Just come home.

* * *

Melinda went into that warehouse to protect one little girl.

A necessary gunshot fired, a child dead. Melinda did not come home.

* * *

She let herself fall to the shower floor, water running over her head and eyes and mouth, as if it could drown her or save her. It couldn't, and all the happiness she had once felt was lost under the bullet blowing through one child's body.

"I couldn't save her."

Phil held on as Melinda wept herself out. "You have to let her go."

Except she couldn't.

* * *

She couldn't bear to feel another's hand meet hers, and she couldn't bear to see the hurt in Andrew's eyes when she pulled away. She couldn't bear the heaviness in her chest at night as she thought of the little child she had wanted and now could not believe she would ever be able to protect.

"Melinda." Andrew's voice was soft and heavy in her ear.

Her eyes were open, her body stiff. She wasn't pretending to be asleep, but she couldn't make her mouth open or herself respond.

His hands were warm on her shoulders because she could still bear to let him touch her there. His hands let go and he wrapped his arms around her.

She didn't pull away, fumbling against horror inside her memory, but neither did she relax into his embrace.

* * *

Melinda didn't come home. Now it was May because Melinda was warm and happy, full of plans and dreams for children with the love of her life, a family she could safeguard and protect and raise with all the strict affection she had received from her own mother. May was not warm and happy. May was full of pain.

That one child, that little girl, she had received Melinda's pain just like she asked.

* * *

"May." Phil's voice was pleading, his eyes no less so.

She met his gaze unmoved.

"I can't do this without you."

"You can," May corrected him matter-of-factly. "You're an excellent field agent."

Phil dropped his hands helplessly, then gestured to her new desk covered with paperwork beneath her security level. "This is a waste of your skills. You said—"

"This is where I am now, Phil," she stated, cutting him off. "And that's final."

* * *

This is where I am now.

She stood in the shower, alone, holding onto herself for a long time under the spray. Surely, there was happiness for her somewhere at the end of however many months it would take to stop waking up from a child's relentless smile and outstretched hand. She would get better. Andrew would stop looking at her with sorrow because she wouldn't let him help her and she couldn't talk to him about what happened.

She hadn't just failed to save that one child; she had killed her.

It felt like shooting a bullet into all her dreams, her future, her own child asking her to be a mother. Time slowed down as she shot a child, a little motherless girl.

May took a shuddering breath and felt the cold spray on her back. She fumbled for the handle and turned the water off.

* * *

"Melinda..."

"I'm not hungry." She brushed past him out of the kitchen, already dressed for work. "I'll be fine."

She didn't look back to see the disappointment in her husband's eyes. She couldn't bear to.

* * *

This wasn't working, and she was all alone. But how could she ever let him in to feel this? How could she tell Andrew what sort of monster she had become when she couldn't face it herself?

She had done the right thing, and that is what made it so terrible.

* * *

"You did the right thing." Andrew's face was so sincere, his voice warm comfort as he held onto her in the bed, hands away from her hands, always treating her with more kindness than she deserved.

It was one reason among many that she loved him.

"I know," she said quietly.

It was the right thing and no one understood that it was horribly wrong. It was the right thing to do and no one understood why she hated herself for it. It was the right thing to kill a child she had gone in to protect, and nothing could make that okay again.

* * *

Silence grew thicker and thicker between them, slowly choking out what they once had.

He still asked. "How was work?"

"It was fine." But she had nothing to say.

He would look at her for another long moment, hope and disappointment all at once. Hope there would be more, disappointment that there was not. The moment would become thick and tangible, another brick in the invisible wall between them, before one or the other finally walked away.

* * *

They were walking away from each other, step by slow and painful step from the moment May came home, having left Melinda on the floor of a warehouse, cradling that one child in her arms as she wept for things she could not change.

They walked away one step at a time, that one child between them, silent and unspoken, until finally she left for good. It was better this way, to be alone without pretending they weren't.

* * *

May packed her things and moved into another small apartment. She didn't look at the pain and sorrow in Andrew's eyes. This wasn't something they could fix.

She couldn't save that child. She was there to protect and to save that one child, and she couldn't do it.

Bahrain.

Let's talk about pain.


End file.
